Scarlet Letter
by Sardonic Storyteller
Summary: Dash just wanted to get a good few hits in before he had to leave for a vacation he didn't even want to go on. Fenton, of course, was the perfect target. Except, after a good blow or two, something goes wrong- there's blood. Why is there blood?- and Dash finds himself horrified and curious. He wants to get to the bottom of this. (Better Summary on AO3 and Inside.)
1. Prologue

_Full Summary: Dash just wanted to get a good few hits in before he had to leave for a vacation he didn't even want to go on. Fenton, of course, was the perfect target. Except, after a good blow or two, something goes wrong- there's blood. Why is there blood?- and Dash finds himself horrified and curious. He wants to get to the bottom of this, and when he spills his guts to the other A-listers they want the same. The question isn't if they want to, though, it's if they can._

_On the other side of things, Danny and team Phantom are just trying to keep things under wraps. Ghosts are getting more vicious and Danny more powerful, which each passing day the challenges of his secret get harder and harder to manage. Now, with Dash and the A-listers acting so weird around him, he doesn't know what he's going to do._

Dash ground his teeth, watching with furious bluebell eyes as Danny Fenton bounced his leg impatiently under his desk. Danny's eyes were focused only on the clock situated above the door, eager and bright. Dash's only thought was that he needed to beat that out of him. His hands clenched at the thought, expertly curling into his best weapon and trembling under the pressure of his tensed digits. Fenton pressed the butt of his morphed eraser to his lips, mouth quirked into a grin. Dash didn't care much about Danny. He never had and likely never would, only caring now that the boy was happier than Dash himself and that just wouldn't do. The bell rang and Danny sprang to his feet, prepared thanks to his dedicated staring. Dash, however, was just as prepared. He grabbed his bag and swug the strap over his shoulder, following Fenton out of the class before even his pathetic geek friends could.

The halls were swarming with kids excited to get out of school, the day over and the summer air outside a blessing for most of them. Dash was eager to get home, too, but he was more excited about sending his fist into Fenton's face at the moment. Luckily for the star football player he was tall, oddly blessed height for even a freshman, and used his height to look over the heads of bustling teenagers to find his decided prey. It wasn't hard to spot the head of messy raven hair amongst the common browns and blondes. Target spotted, easily making for the doors, and Dash didn't hesitate to stalk after him.

Fenton was so close to the exit when Dash reached him, pulling him back by the hook in his backpack and tossing him into an empty classroom one door down from the double-doored exit mere feet away. He watches with a satisfied smirk as Fenton topples over into a desk with a startled shout. None of the students even looked his way as they brushed past him to go outside, not caring as he sauntered in after his target and shut the door. Fenton sent Dash an annoyed glare as the football player shrugged off his backpack and cracked his knuckles. Dash felt another wave of satisfaction at having knocked that dumb, happy grin off of Fenton's stupid face.

"What do you want, Dash?" Fenton groaned, pushing himself off the desk he'd been thrown into and casually grabbed the strap of his back to steady it on his shoulder. It wasn't uncommon for Fenton to just seem annoyed with him, especially since the beginning of the year, but that didn't stop Dash for coming after his favorite prey time and time again. Fenton may be annoyed, and he may not be scared most of the time either, but he still had the best reactions to anything Dash did. He liked the challenge.

"You looked a little too happy there Fenturd," The jab rolled off his tongue without so much of a thought. It was childish, a stupid playground insult, but it never failed to make Danny scowl and glare. "Couldn't let that slide." He ground his fist into his palm and approached, smile sliding onto his face as Fenton took a step back to accommodate for the lost distance. With every stride he took forward Fenton took back, but the wall wasn't moving as Danny wouldn't be able to keep this up for long. There was still no fear on Fenton's face, just resignation and that ever present annoyance.

"Are you seriously about to beat me up because I was ready for the weekend?" Fenton asked, backpack hitting the wall first before Fenton pressed his back to the white bricks. The height difference between the two of them always made Dash feel extra in control, extra threatening, because he swamped puny Fenton with ease, having an entire foot on the small teenager.

Dash's smile only widened, fist pressing hard into his palm in preparation, "What do you think?" He asked, quirking a brow and pulling back his fist. Fenton simply sighed, letting his bag slide off his shoulder and drop to the floor. It was amazing how easy Fenton simply accepted his fate. The other boy's face screwed up in preparation, turning away and flinching. Dash relished in the sight for a moment, seeing Fenton tense further as he was forced to wait for a fate he couldn't see coming. Once the high of the sight dimmed he thrust his fist into Fenton's chest, smirking as the smaller boy winced, coughed, and crumbled. He fell forward with a gasp, coughing awkwardly as the air left his lungs with a wheeze. Dash basked in the powerful feeling that washed over him, soaking in the dominance he felt being able to knock someone down with a single punch. He knew it was a low blow and he'd never really hit Fenton there before so it hadn't been anticipated, so even though Fenton was prepared for a hit he hadn't been prepared for that. It was the small details that really made bullying worth it. The small details like how Fenton glared up at him through dark hair with a hand pressed to his chest, eyes angry and breaths short.

"Cheap," The raven haired boy rasped but he didn't move when Dash easily kicked him over with a bark of laughter.

"You're too easy, Fen-toenail." Dash smirked darkly, listening blissfully as Danny groaned with a face screwed up in pain.

That's when the classroom door swung open, Dash looking over his shoulder to watch Fenton's equally scrawny and pathetic friends stomp in. Manson looked furious, fists clenched tightly at her sides as she glared angrily at Dash with darkly painted eyes. The technogeek just looked annoyed, like Fenton had, but he startled when the door slammed shut behind them ensuring Dash that the loser was still wary in his presence. Good.

"What now, Dash?" Manson asked, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, "You fail another test?" She mocked, stomping forward and making for Fenton. Dash, however, was going on vacation with his stupid family for a week and wouldn't have anyone to wail on for a while; he wasn't done yet. He easily reached out as Sam passed him, fingers hooking through the loop in her dumb spider backpack and tugging her back. She stumbled, surprised by the sudden jerk, and Dash found himself disappointed when the technogeek- Foley- steadied her. The two sent matching glares in his direction, earning only a wider smirk and a sadistic glint of the eye.

When he looked back Fenton had pushed himself back up to his feet, hand pressed to the wall of steady him and free palm held to his still aching chest. Dash sent him a feral grin. "Do you want a knuckle sandwich, Fenton?" He huffs, crossing his arms and staring down his nose at the unsteady teen before him.

Danny rolled his eyes and sent another glare his way, turning his gaze down when he peeled his hand away from his chest. Dash was going to scoff, deliver another blow, but his mind stuttered to a stop when he saw the trademark oval on Fenton's shirt was darker, larger, and disfigured. Fenton's hand was slick with opaque red, palm painted in scarlet. "W-what?" He stuttered, eyes zeroed in on the red. He barely took note of the two geeks that zoomed past him, the technogeek taking a closer look at the wound Dash was certain he didn't make while the goth loser stood between Dash and the other two like she could stop him if she tried. They both knew she couldn't. Dash forced startled eyes from the growing stain- _Why was there so much blood? It was blood, wasn't it?_\- and met Sam's enraged lilac irises. "I didn't do that." He whispered, haunted, and oddly desperate for the goth to believe him. He looked between Manson, Foley, and Fenton, "I didn't do that, right?" He breathed.

"Relax, Dash." Fenton huffed, pressing his hand back to his chest. His hand covered the stain- the blood- but the edge of his fingers were red. A tiny detail. Dash thought he liked the small details, before this. "You didn't do it." Why was Danny so calm? Dash searched the boy's face for any kind of sign of panic or discomfort or anything, anything but the disinterest and annoyance that painted his features now. Why were they treating Fenton staining his shirt red with such indifference? Obviously, Manson and Foley were worried but Fenton just didn't seem to care. He looked just as irritated as he had when Dash had thrown him into this classroom but Dash felt like something should have changed. He actually felt relief when Fenton winced, cringing back as some sort of pain hit him. He felt better knowing Danny felt something rather than vexed indifference.

Dash didn't try to stop them when Fenton's two loser friends guided him out and away. Foley was muttering something about how to position his hand to hide the visible blood while Manson grabbed Fenton's bag and followed, still working as an active barrier between Dash and her friend. Dash didn't even turn to watch them go, only knowing they were gone when the door thudded jarringly back into place.

They had treated this like this was routine. Of course Sam and Tucker had been worried but they still treated that like it was normal for Fenton to just start bleeding. Dash's mind stuttered to a halt for the second time in last ten minutes when the thought crossed his mind; maybe it was. He turned and looked at the door the three geeks had walked through, self-consciously rubbing his bicep through his letterman and feeling the familiar smart of a bruise on his skin. His eyes narrowed in thought as something came back to him from the conversation. _"You didn't do it."_ Fenton had said.

_Then who had?_


	2. Second Opinion

Dash walked home on autopilot. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his letterman jacket and his eyes stared blankly ahead of him as he tried to think over what in the world just happened back at the school during his mindless walk home. Fenton had assured him that it hadn't been his fault that he started bleeding all over the place but Dash couldn't help but think that he should have punched him somewhere else, bully satisfaction or not.

He was dense, he knew that. He was terrible in school and he said the most idiotic things that some haunted him on occasion but, against popular belief, he wasn't a _complete _moron. Like how he knew High School was likely to be his glory days or his engrained understanding of the social hierarchy. He knew that bullying was something he'd regret later. That, or it'd act as some pseudo gateway drug to being an even worse person. He was really hoping for option one. That's why he admired Phantom so much; not only was the guy a badass, kickbutt superhero but he used his powers for good because _he_ was good. Phantom had power, unbelievable power, but he never used it to hurt innocent people or do bad things. Unlike Dash. It was something he knew, logically, that he'd regret because he didn't _want_ to be a bad person. He just had the power and all he knew to do with power was use it to beat down the weaker, make himself an outlet when he didn't have one. He'd done it so long that it'd just become his go-to release. He didn't have the best role models-

He quickly shook the tangent from his mind. That wasn't what he was thinking about. Wasn't what he wanted to think about. He had better things to be focusing on. New developments to do his best to figure out. He hated the way the incident- as he decided to call his last bullying attempt gone wrong- made guilt churn in his stomach. Thinking about how Fenton had keeled over now made him feel sick and thinking about how the other geeks reacted filled his veins with uncomfortable, antsy fire. He knew one thing for certain, however, this kind of thing was a common occurrence for them. They had acted too casually, too practiced, Danny had cared too little. That was probably the worst revelation for Dash and no matter what excuses he tried to make for them or what accidents he tried to stir up there was only one answer that made sense in his mind. He swallowed compulsively, salivating as nausea swirled again in his churning stomach.

His hands clenched into tight fists in his pockets and a glare to the sidewalk, the action natural to him and leaving him with the desire to drive his fist into something. Fenton's parents had to have done this. Dash's shoulders hiked up, tension rolling through his body the more he thought about it. He didn't much _want_ to think about it anymore but now the gears were rolling and he couldn't stop them. They had to have done it, didn't they? What kind of accident could have left a wound like that on Fenton's chest? Again, though, Dash knew he was dense. Maybe he was overthinking it all; projecting or something stupid like that. A thought tickled the back of his mind, another one he just couldn't ignore. What if he wasn't?

He was reeling, thoughts battling for dominance in his head, and all he knew was that he needed to get home to the safety of his room and get a second opinion before it all drove him insane. Dash forced himself to take a deep breath and release the tension in his muscles, shoulders sagging and shaking fists relaxing. He needed to calm down, clearly, because this could totally be something else. He wouldn't put it past himself to overreact like this when one possible answer to all his questions could be child abuse. He shook himself again, shrugging his bag and jacket alike higher up onto his shoulders and letting out a relieved breath when he saw his house a few blocks down. He never thought he'd do that.

He picks up the pace, practically jogging the rest of the way while he moved a hand to his jeans pocket to grab his house key. He pulled it out with ease as he hopped up the few porch steps leading to his front door. He doesn't hesitate like he sometimes did to slide the key into the lock and open the door, doesn't even think to check the garage for either of his parents cars, and he doesn't care as he slams the door behind him. He doesn't glance into the living room or look to the kitchen. He doesn't even look at Pookie as the chihuahua excitedly runs up to him and scampers around his feet. Instead he runs up the stairs to his room, tossing open the door to the pristine red and white bedroom and letting his bag drop to the floor.

Pookie barely manages to dodge the falling backpack but that doesn't put a damper on the dog's happy mood.

Dash is just happy to be in his room. His parents didn't bother him in here anyway so as he shut the door and instinctively locked him and Pookie in with a twist of the knob he felt a sense of calm reassurance finally wash over him. He let out a long sigh, smiling down at his dog and kneeling to scratch the small, trembling thing behind the ears. He was finally alone, safe, and able to slow down long enough to ask someone else what they thought of the situation. He didn't care if he was spewing puny Fenton's little secrets. Besides, if it turned out the way he thought it would it'd work out for the better anyway.

Dash took the few strides left over to his bed and fell back onto the red blankets. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, simply melting into the familiar comfort of his bed and smiling at how Pookie jumped at his feet hanging off the side of the mattress. He already felt much better than he had mere minutes prior. He figures now would be a good time to get that second opinion anyway.

He digs his phone out of his pocket and flicks the screen to life with a simple slide of his thumb, tapping the four number pin code into the screen. He didn't even have to open his text app, his messages already listed on his screen. He scans over his contacts. Names of members of the team he barely knew, geeks he had doing his homework, but at the very top of the screen sat a group chat titled **V.I.P**. The smile on his face turned more energized at the sight, easily tapping the group and rolling onto his stomach so he could type without the risk of dropping his phone onto his face.

He reads the last miniconversation they'd had after lunch during Lancer's class.

**_Kwanster: _**_Dude. Stop eyeing Fenton like that. You can beat him up later, ha. _

Kwan was the only one of them that didn't text like a teenager, always using punctuation and refusing to use shortenings like u, ttyl, and the like. Valerie used to be in the same chat, used to type just like Kwan, but Dash had never really been her friend anyway so he didn't feel much of the loss.

**_Dashinator: _**_Im gonna kill him _

**_Shooting Star: _**_You're guys names are stupid_

**_Kwanster: _**_It's your, star. _

**_Dashinator: _**_U tell her, loser_

**_Shooting Star: _**_Ur _

**_Kwanster: _**_:O! _

**_Paulina Phantom: _**_Lancers looking! _

Dash can't help but laugh. He may fight with them sometimes but this handful of A-Listers were more than just social clique friends. They were real friends. Hell, if they weren't he'd never talk to Kwan. Kwan was a generally nice guy who was damn good at English, not the natural bully like most other A-Listers. It was only his football status, friendship with Dash, and money that gave him the A-List title. Star was dense but still more school-smart than Dash was, she was kind of the opposite of him. Good with school, terrible with social situations. It's why Paulina was so good for her. The hispanic girl was a master at manipulation but she could be really sweet, too. They were all better than people gave them credit for, more than just A-Listers unlike most of the football and cheerleading teams.

He lets his thumbs hover over the screen in his uncertainty, glancing at his friends names and trying to think of how he wanted to say this. How was he supposed to bring this up?

**_Kwanster: _**_Hey man! I see you hovering- _

Damn active readers.

_-did you let off some steam on Fenton? _

Dash continued hovering, biting his lip and wondering if he should just spit it out or if he should wait for them to ask what exactly happened.

**_Paulina Phantom: _**_I hope u did that gross technology boy flirted with me again_

Silence reigned in the chat while the others waited for Dash to say something. To even start typing to signify he was paying attention. Dash, in his contemplative mindset, forgot to even respond while trying to think of what to say.

**_Kwanster:_** _Dude? Are your parents home? _

Dash could practically see the worried expression on Kwan's face when he read that.

**_Dashinator: _**_No no nothing like that _

**_Dashinator: _**_Thinking _

**_Shooting Star: _**_About _

Dash huffed, glaring at the screen in his frustration. He didn't even think, letting his mind spew into the text box whatever it thought best because he was giving himself a headache trying to decide how to go about this.

**_Dashinator: _**_I think Fenton's parents might be doing something to him _

Again, silence reigned in the chat. Dash had only a moment to wonder if he'd made the wrong choice when his phone aggressively buzzed.

**_Kwanster: _**_Like abuse? _

**_Shooting Star: _**_Experiments :((! _

**_Paulina Phantom: _**_Do they hit him!?_

Dash feels a weird mix of simultaneous relief and dispair at that. Not one of them had even thought to deny it. Not even suggest something else or ask if he was sure. It's like they were so ready to accept that. Like they were waiting for it. Thinking about it makes sense to Dash, in more ways than it had before. The Fentons were scientists, clearly a little out of their minds, maybe Star was right and they would do some kind of experiment on Danny. He talked about the lab accident last year, murmuring with Manson and Foley and trying to explain why'd he been out for a week. Maybe it hadn't been an accident.

**_Dashinator: _**_Idk_

**_Dashinator: _**_I was wailing on him like usual but after i hit him he started bleeding _

**_Kwanster: _**_Dude!_

**_Dashinator: _**_I didnt hit him that hard! _

**_Dashinator: _**_Then manson and foley showed up and like tried to protect him _

**_Dashinator: _**_The weird thing is that they werent surprised_

**_Dashinator: _**_And Fenton just didnt care _

**_Dashinator: _**_Foley even told him how to hide it _

**_Kwanster: _**_Dude… _

**_Shooting Star: _**_What do we do?_

**_Paulina Phantom: _**_Can we do anything _

**_Paulina Phantom: _**_Like i know this is terrible but if we mention it to him hell just keep hiding it wont he _

**_Paulina Phantom: _**_Its not like he'd convide in us or whatever _

**_Shooting Star: _**_Or believe were trying to help _

**_Kwanster: _**_Even if he did, Sam would talk him out of it. She wouldn't touch us with a twenty foot poll unless it was to whack us over the head. _

Dash growled, smacking his head against his phone. He knew they were right but he couldn't just sit back and watch it happen. If they were right then they couldn't just watch. Fenton got in trouble at school all the time, missed classes all the time. Lancer had to be telling his parents and if Fenton's parents were anything like Dash's then that must get him in a lot of trouble at home. Not to mention, what if they _were_ experimenting on him? That's not even just normal abuse at that point; it's beyond cruel and unusual punishment. That lead to the other problem. Even if Danny let them help him they couldn't just get him out of that situation, Dash knew how manipulative and "trustworthy" parents could be. The thing is he won't even let them help him. Fenton would be too wary and so would Manson and Foely. They couldn't patch him up or help him out or convince Lancer that Danny didn't need another detention unless the boy let them help him.

**_Dashinator: _**_We have to do something _

**_Kwanster: _**_Duh. _

**_Kwanster_**_: Maybe, for right now anyway, Danny doesn't need to trust us. Or believe us. If anything Foley would convince him to take advantage of it while he could, right? _

**_Kwanster:_**_ If we just kept it up and left him alone maybe he'd let his guard down. Maybe we could talk to him. Let him know why we want to help him out. _

**_Dashinator: _**_He still wouldn't tell us_

**_Dashinator: _**_Right? _

**_Kwanster: _**_You did. _

**_Paulina Phantom: _**_Eventually. _

**_Shooting Star: _**_It just took some time _

**_Kwanster: _**_So we got to put in the time with Fenton, too. Even if it isn't what we think or something. He still got hurt like that. I want to know what's going on. _

**_Paulina Phantom: _**_Samsies!_

**_Shooting Star: _**_Ditto~~_

Dash smiled, relieved. His friends were smart and if anyone could help him figure this out and do something about it it was them.

Sharing the burden took a weight off his shoulders he didn't realize he'd felt. Thank god for that, because Dash had enough weight to carry.

**_Dashinator: _**_Then lets do this _


	3. I Don't Know

Danny huffs as he walks down the sidewalk, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his worn jeans. He could lie and say he'd had them for a while, since forever or something like that, but he was a growing boy and over the past year he'd grown more than his parents liked to admit. Truth was the jeans were only about a month old, brand new, but ghosts tossed him around a lot and they'd gotten scuffed and worn out quicker than any clothing Danny's ever had before. He figured his best excuse was that he bought them that way. Thank you, pointless fashion trends.

The air of Amity is colder than it reasonably should be, especially considering they were riding out the tail end of summer at the beginning of a new school year. It was weird to think he'd spent almost an entire year fighting ghosts, ruthless with his own ghost powers. It feels like it's been so much longer. In all honesty, he feels like he's been doing this his whole life, improving and growing and developing new powers over the course of years upon years of experience. In reality, it hasn't even been an entire year yet and he'd already developed power upon power and perfected strategy upon strategy. It hits Danny now, like a truck, that despite being childish and mocking in the way only a teenager could be he didn't feel like some dumb kid anymore. In no way did he feel like an adult. _No way_, he thinks almost bitterly as he kicks a rock off of the sidewalk into the road. He just didn't think he could hold on to be being an ignorant child anymore, not in the places he wanted to.

His chest ached, not because of the skin carved away there but because of how unprepared he was for this bout of nostalgic realization. It hurt in a way he doesn't think he could ever prepare himself for. He sucks in a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out and deflating as it left his lungs. His shoulders slumped and the churning ache shifted from his chest to his stomach.

"Danny!" His head snaps up, meeting Sam's smiling lilac eyes with his own startled azure. Tucker is waving excitedly in front of her, body twisted so he could face Danny and gesture the other boy over with a bright smile that took over his face. Danny hadn't realized he'd made it to the Nasty Burger, lost in thoughts he didn't want to acknowledge, but the sight of his friends chased away the feeling of dread that had been pooling in his heart moments before. Hey, if Sam and Tucker were moving forward with him what was so bad about moving forward, right?

Danny raised his hand and waved back, a small smile slipping onto his face. He glanced both ways to check for cars before jogging across the street. They usually sat inside but lately it'd been completely blistering outside with summer heat so it seemed that either Sam or Tucker had wanted to enjoy the chilled weather before the sun decided to rear its ugly head again. Danny's vote was on Sam.

"Hey Danny." Tucker greeted merrily, a big burger sitting in a pool of greasy meat juice settled in a red plastic basket in front of him. If there was anything to turn Tucker's mood up other than a piece of shiny tech it had to be a disgustingly juicy burger. "Sam hasn't ordered yet," He informed, grabbing his meal and taking a huge bite. Sam winced at the mustard that spewed out the back, dripping onto the paper lining the disgusting slick basket. "She wanted to wait for you." Tucker says around a mouthful, swallowing after.

Danny's grin widened, sliding into the seat on the bench beside his best friend and giving Sam a helpless _who-can-you-do _shrug when Tucker was too busy digging into his second bite. "That makes one of you." He jokes, sharing a cringe with the goth when the technogeek's meal made a squelching noise. Danny wasn't a neat eater by any means, in fact his own eating habits usually earned groans of disgust all the same, but he never made noises like that.

"I couldn't just watch the burgers come out here and go to other people, Danny." Tucker defended himself, waving a hand coated in condiments dismissively. "That's burger blasphemy." He insisted, acting as if that was an actual thing.

Sam rolled her eyes, leaning forward and placing her head in her hand. Her hair falls in lazy, silky strands over her fingers as she turns her bright gaze to Danny, "At least one of us is a good friend." She sends him a soft, purple-lipped smirk and Danny feels his heart warm. Ice core and all.

"Hey!" Tucker calls, affronted, shooting a dangerous glare in Sam's direction. The desired effect, however, is completely ruined by the mustard smear along his chin and the chipmunk cheeks filled with Nasty.

Danny can't help but bark a laugh, raising a hand to muffle the noise when Tucker turns the glare in his direction. He's struggling to silence his amusement when the glare is directed at him. The bright smear stood out so starkly against Tucker's dark skin and the teen stopped chewing in favor of glaring leaving his cheeks equally as full as before if not more so.

"What?" Tucker huffs, fighting a smile that only succeeded in making the expression even more hilarious to Danny.

"Oh, dude," Danny groaned around a stuttered chuckle, moving the hand covering his mouth to block Tucker from his sight. "Not in the mood for see food." He joked.

He figures he should be disturbed by the fact he could hear Tucker swallowing but he found himself simply grateful that his friend did. He lowers his hand and shoots Tucker a beaming smile, another loose chuckle bursting from his lips when he notices the mustard is still there. He hears a muffled giggle and glances over to see Sam covering her own mouth, eyes sparkling as her shoulders shook with suppressed laughter of her own. Danny felt his heart warm again, knowing that he wasn't alone in his childish amusement and hearing Sam laugh made him borderline giddy.

"Okay, guys," Tucker tried to force himself to frown against the smile threatening to burst out across his face. "Seriously, what?" He huffed, successfully schooling his features into a scowl. Danny and Sam shared a look.

"You got a little something," Sam starts, hand lowering to tap her chin, "Right here." She explains.

Danny snorts, "Yeah," He smirks, "Less of a star, more like a comet." He teases.

Tucker playfully bumps their shoulders together as he reaches to grab a napkin, ignoring Danny's silent laughter as he wiped away the mustard that had been coloring his chin and amusing his friends to no end.

"Children. Utter children." Tucker sighs in faux disappointment. He only succeeds in gaining another round of laughter from the two and before long Tucker is joining in.

It doesn't take long for the noise to die down. The remnants of Danny's previous dark thoughts, clinging to the back of his mind, fell away as he shared another moment with his best friends. They already had handfuls of inside jokes up their sleeves, secrets and fears hidden in each other's minds but each memory with them added something new for Danny to cherish. He gazed at them, their smiles blinding, and he can't help but reiterate to himself just how much he loves them. His eyes flick to Sam and his cheeks tint red. He may love them in slightly different ways but he loves them both all the same.

"So," He drawls, gaining the attention of the others as they all sobered up. "Food?" He looks to Sam.

She rolls her eyes fondly, shooting him another little smile, and nods, "Food." She agrees as she slips out of her seat. Danny is quick to follow her, standing carefully in order to avoid catching his foot on the on the bench. He'd tripped too many times thanks to the bars connecting bench and table. He was wary of repeating that mistake.

They leave with uncaring instructions for Tucker to hold their seats, grinning at each other when the teen had gave a saddened sigh and a dramatic claim of having no one to give the seat away to. Danny shoves his hands into his pockets and leads the way towards the Nasty entrance. He sees Valerie in her mascot uniform by the doors handing out coupons and wonders vaguely how she's doing. They haven't talked much since she'd left him behind for whatever reason she deemed fit. He startles when Sam knocks their shoulders together. Danny had gained another few inches on her but her clunky combat boots almost entirely eliminated the height difference giving her better access. She's scowling, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. She must see the confusion on his face because her expression softens and she sighs, "What were you thinking about?" She asks, lulling them to a stop just to the side of the stained off-white building.

"What?" Danny asked cluelessly. His brow furrows and a frown pulls at his lips as he wonders if she was upset about him staring at Valerie. He was pretty sure Sam didn't know it was Valerie because the crap costume, however, so that didn't seem too likely.

"When you got here. You were totally moping, Danny, I saw you." She clarifies.

Realization dawns on him then, eyebrows raising and mouth opening in a soft 'O'. He pulls a hand from his pocket to rub the back of his neck sheepishly, smiling apologetically at her. "I didn't realize," He confesses. He'd just been thinking. Sure, it wasn't a very bright train of thought, but he didn't realize his whole demeanor had changed in the process.

Sam simply quirks her eyebrow higher in disbelief.

"I didn't." Danny defends gently, "I was just thinking." He explains, wincing when he realizes that only gonna make Sam pry more.

"About?" Sam unknowingly proves him right and tilts her head, a few strands of inkly black hair falling across her face despite the ponytail in place to keep that very thing from happening.

"Stuff?" Danny answers, shrugging his shoulders as his voice tips hopefully. Sam's unimpressed look is more than enough to tell him that answer wouldn't suffice. He sighs, shoulders dropping while hands found their way back into jeans pockets. "Okay." He caves, "I was just thinking about all of this," He vaguely gestures to them, hand flicking to Tucker where the boy sat ignorant with his burger. He lets his eyes meet Sam's and sees her frown when radioactive green flickers in his irises. "How much everything's changed. How long we've been doing what we've been doing. Just… how fast everything happened."

"Danny…" Sam starts, eyebrows tilting down in a sympathetic- _empathetic_\- expression.

"It hasn't even been a _year_, Sam." Danny pressed. Her eyes trail down to where his hands lay in his pockets, watching the fabric shift as his fingers curl into practiced fists. He waits until she looks back to meet his eyes, her face soft as she gazes at his expression of uncertainty and anxiety. "It's just a lot. To think about sometimes, you know?" He huffs, averting his gaze to look at the floor, toe digging into the tough grass beneath it.

"You know I do." Sam assured, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder. He looks up throw thick bangs to meet her gaze. "Things may have changed, Danny, but nothing's left. Hold onto that." She advises.

Danny smiles, the grin wavering at first before the tension just seemed to fall out of him, "I told you you were smart." He teases, a weight he knew he'd always carry lightening with Sam beside him.

Sam punched him in the shoulder, glaring as Danny subconsciously rubbed the now tender flesh with a mischievous smirk. "Shut up," She demands, but her cheeks are rosy and her lips twitch up at the corners. "Let's go." She grabs him by the arm, in the very same spot she'd punched, and drags him the short distance to the doors. Danny simply snorts, amused, and lets her pull him along.

However, as they reach the door Danny sees it start to open and quickly digs his heels into the ground to keep Sam from getting rammed by the heavy metal bar used as the handle. In doing so, Danny stumbles forward and gets himself smacked in the stomach which only succeeds in sending him into Sam. They topple over, Danny landing across Sam's stomach with a gentle thud. Sam was lucky his half-dead status lessoned his weight considerably or else the impact definitely would have hurt more than it did.

Danny's breath hitches as he falls, the impact leaving stealing his lungs while Sam just groaned and easily pushed Danny off her. Her eyes turned concerned when she notes his pained expression and she leans forward to hover a hand over the irritated wound on his chest. "You okay?" Sam asks quietly. She's quicker to note that people are staring then Danny is but, to be fair, Danny is too busy trying to reign in white hot agony that's dancing across his skin above his heart. Skulker had gotten in a good hit with a new blade. It'd carved out a sizable chunk of Danny's skin and was pathetically stitched and bandaged considering they didn't have the resources to perform something like a skin graft to actually close the would. Danny just prayed it wasn't bleeding _again_ as he forces himself up and sends a forced smile in Sam's direction.

"Other than getting taken down by a door? Peachy." He assures. He looks over to the still open door, ready to apologize to whoever had been on the other end of this unintended attack, but the words die in his throat when he sees a shocked Kwan and Star standing behind the silver and red door. He sighs, scowling as he realized they'd probably done it on purpose. It wouldn't be the first time Dash or Kwan had waited for him to pass just to "coincidentally" open a door.

He takes Sam's offered hand and grunts as the goth pulls him to his feet, casually standing too close to support him. If it looked more intimate than that, like a wolf protecting her mate's throat, they'd deny it. They always did. "Look," Danny huffs, sending the two a-listers a look of disdain, "If we're gonna do this today can we do it quickly." He really wasn't in the mood for a day of prolonged bullying. Especially if it would end anything like yesterday had. He'd never heal if his bullies kept making a point of reopening his wounds.

The a-listers still seemed frozen though. Their eyes flicked from the door, to Sam, to Danny in unparalleled, frightening unison. It took a minute of silence and onlookers staring in eager anticipation for Kwan to shake himself from the stupor he'd weirdly fallen into. "Hey, sorry Fenton. Didn't see you there." He apologized, offering a genuine smile. Kwan was always the nicest of the bullies but this was still way cooler than the footballer had ever been before. Sam and Danny shared a confused, guarded glance before turning identical glares to two before them.

"Totally our fault!" Star agreed readily, perking up once Kwan had started talking. "Are you okay?" She asked the two of them. Danny could tell easily she was forcing positivity, smile too bright, eyes too kind, posture too bubbly even for her. Why she was forcing herself to be so kind to them? Danny didn't know and that was what set him on edge. Usually his suspicions were saved for plotting ghosts and Vlad Masters but he couldn't help the distrust that coated his mouth with something bitter.

"Fine." Sam answered, catching on to Danny's calculating gaze scanning over the two. She could feel the tension returning to him but this time it wasn't worry and contemplation that coiled his muscle tightly. He was preparing for something, on edge and antsy. She could relate, her own fists clenched at her sides. She wasn't usually a target, but it had been her who was closest to the door at the time. They couldn't have known Danny would try to stop her. That was a Phantom thing to do, to notice, not a Fenton thing.

"Yeah," Danny muttered, his piercing blue eyes glaring accusing daggers into Kwan's friendly brown irises. "Fine."

Again silence reigned. People were beginning to turn away, losing interest in such a boring interaction. Kwan let out a soft breath and sent the two another apologetic look before pulling Star out of the doorway. Danny doesn't pull his eyes away from them until they're seated, tossing the bag of food they had onto a table where Paulina and Dash sat waiting for them.

Sam waits, waiting for Danny to move first before opening the door. It's only when she feels him exhale that she reaches out and opens the door, pulling Danny around her and playfully pushing him through the entrance. It's mostly for appearances now, both of them too lost in their wary confusion to actually return to their playful antics.

"What the hell..?" Danny wonders out loud, turning to give Sam a look of complete confusion as he lead the way up to the counter. Sam gives him a moment to think it over and easily orders for both of them, a simple burger for Danny and a tofu burger for herself as always.

Again she grabs his arm, much gentler this time around, and pulls him off to the side so they can wait for their meals in general peace despite the loud conversations echoing in the restaurant. She crosses her arms and shoots a glare through the windows at the a-listers table. "I think they're up to something." She confesses, waiting for them to do something she could pin on them. She watches as Dash rolls his eyes at something Paulina said and Kwan laughs. Normal teenage stuff. Nothing that looked like nefarious plotting. Still, Sam decided that whatever this was couldn't be good.

"I'm still trying to wrap my head around Kwan apologizing to me." Danny admits. He honestly couldn't think of any reason why the sports player wouldn't have seen Danny sprawled out on sam and started laughing.

"Do you think it has something to do with yesterday?" Sam asks quietly, turning back to give Danny a concerned look.

"Do you think Dash would have told them?" Danny returns.

Sam huffs, hands tightening their grip on her biceps as she scowls, "I don't know, but I know we can't trust them." She insists. There must be something on Danny's face, something she would refer to as "hopeful stupid", but she frowned at him, "Danny," She stressed, "We _can't_ trust them. They don't do anything good, ever. They're stuck up, pompous assholes." She insists curtly.

"Okay, okay, Sam, I know." Danny assures, raising his hands placatingly. "I just… I don't know. You're right." He nods to the employees as she slides their food over the counter, "I don't know." he reiterates.

Sam's expression softens, and she pressed a finger- nail painted onyx- to his forehead and gently pushes his head back. "Hopeful stupid." She smirks, turning on her heel and leading her back to the doors so they could rejoin Tucker. Danny follows after he with ease, slipping around her to carefully push open the door for her. She rolls her eyes at him but again her cheeks tint red. Danny thinks it's a good look on her.

They trek up the small incline back to the table Sam and Tucker had previously nabbed, sliding into their seats and shooting distracted smiles of greeting in Tucker's direction.

"So, what was that about?" Tucker asked, burger gone and fries currently being devoured. He nods towards the door, clearly having seen the commotion.

Sam passed Danny his food and frowned, taking a neat bite from her own meal. Danny sent a look over his shoulder to the a-lister table across the lot.

"I don't know." He answers. He was saying that a lot today.

"They acted like they didn't do it on purpose." Sam scowled, taking another more aggressive bite of her food.

Tucker opened his mouth, as if to scold her for treating her precious burger so roughly, but Danny saw the moment of realization when Tucker remembered it wasn't an actual burger. "Did they?" He asks instead.

"I don't know." Danny muttered again, eyes still locked on the laughing a-listers. Broken record, was that you?

"Star was faker than usual, trying to be nice. It was actually kind of pathetic." Sam growls. "Kwan was nice. Normal nice. But he actually apologized. It's suspicious."

"Dude, really?" Tucker asked, disbelief clearly tainting his voice. Danny did blame him. It was like an alternate dimension. "Do you think they're up to something?"

"Yes." Sam answered plainly.

"I don't know." Danny breathed, gaze zoning in on Dash and the normal, not-at-all-cruel smile on his face. What were they up to?


	4. Blood Burning

Danny shivers as a wave of cold shudders through him. Sam and Tucker send him startled looks and Danny sees them tense, ready to fight, but he's quick to wave them off. "Not my ghost sense." He assures, rolling his shoulders and shrugging away the tail end of the cold wave.

"You can't actually be cold." Sam huffs, smiling teasingly but her lilac irises are glistening with concern.

"It's like," Tucker glances down at his PDA screen, "73.5 degrees." He agrees, shooting Danny his own uncertain look.

"There's a breeze?" Danny tries to explain but it comes out more of a question. He doesn't want them to worry, there's nothing to worry about, he just hasn't been sticking as close to Frostbite's suggestions as he should. The Ice Yeti had very clearly told Danny that he couldn't keep his core's power locked up, that it needed an outlet, but it hasn't gotten one recently other than a few puffs of condensation when a ghost is nearby.

Sam levels him with a stern look and Danny sighs, resting his elbows on the table and resting his head in his hands, "It's just my core." He insists casually, like they didn't know his core was everything that held his ghost half together; everything that made it real.

"Just my core." Tucker mocks, tilting his voice higher. His voice had dropped considerably over the past year but he was still the squeakiest kid Danny knew. "Isn't that, ya know, your ghastly ghost heart?" Tucker was clearly just as unimpressed as Sam was.

Danny sighs again, long and suffering, "It's not damaged or anything. I just haven't been using my ice powers as much-"

"-Cryokinesis." Sam corrects.

"Cryokinesis as much as I should be." Danny amends. "It's building up again. Makes me cold sometimes." He explains. He was waiting for a shiver to come, just for effect, and was slightly disappointed when it didn't come.

"Why aren't you?" Tucker asks, head tilting curiously as he shovels a handful of fries into his mouth. "I mean, Frosty taught you how to use them, right?" He continued, chewing obnoxiously and making Sam cringe.

"I just don't need them, most of the time." Danny shrugged, stealing a handful of Tucker's fries and smiling at his friends indignant squeak. "I'm used to the ecto-powers. I forget the ice po-" A stern look from Sam, "-Cryokinesis is there most of the time, if I'm being honest."

"Dude, how do you forget you have ice powers?" Tucker huffs. Sam scowls. She was trying to get them to use the proper name for Danny's proclaimed ice powers, glad to know that one of them finally had a more finalized term, but Danny and Tucker weren't making it easy for her. At very least Danny was trying. Tucker, however, has yet to make the effort.

Danny shrugs again, munching peacefully on the fries he'd nabbed from Tucker's ever greasy basket. "I forgot I had ghost powers for the first couple mouths after I got them." Danny remembers the multiple times he had been in a sticky situation- a lot of them commonly caused by Dash- only escaping at the last minute because he'd remembered that he was a hybrid.

"How?" Tucker groans. Danny never thought someone could look so sad eating a french fry but the way Tucker hunched over, slowly feeding the food into his mouth with a downcast expression almost sparked pity in him. Almost.

"Maybe because he spent the first fourteen years of his life being human, Tucker." Sam quipped, rolling her eyes and taking another bite of her food. She, respectively, was the slowest eater of them all. It was to be expected really, but sometimes Danny decided to pace himself with her just so she didn't have to eat alone. He knew how just how uncomfortable it could make her being the only one eating.

"Ouch," Danny winced playfully, eyes sparkling as he sent her a dramatically wounded look. He moves a hand to carefully hover over his chest, wary of reopening his wound but not daring to throw his humor to the wind just because he was a little worse for wear.

Sam grabs one of Tucker's fries and chucks it at the other noirette with a glare, smiling smugly when the french fry got itself tangled in Danny's messy hair, "That's not what I meant and you know it."

Danny simply reached up and plucked the fry from his hair, bring it down and placing it on his tongue slowly. Sam grimaced and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Maturity, where are you?" She muttered.

Tucker and Danny shared an amused look before bursting into a fit of laughter. It was short lived but Danny was glad to have a relief from the paranoia that was plaguing him. He kept wanting to look over his shoulder at the A-listers. He felt like he could feel them creeping towards him, preparing something either embarrassing or painful. Knowing his luck, he'd be both.

"There." Tucker said, pointing over Sam's shoulder. Obviously, the raven-haired kids couldn't simply take his word for it. They turned to look in unison and Danny let out a groan when he spotted a familiar head of long orange hair. Tucker snickered, earning a dark look from Danny. Sam simply rolled her eyes and kicked Danny under the table to get his attention, nodding towards the approaching form of Jazz Fenton. Great.

Jazz waved excitedly, a smile on her face beaming at them as she walked over and easily slid in next to same. The dark look on Sam's face sent a wave of satisfaction through Danny. _Who was annoyed now_, he thought mockingly.

"Hey fellow Ghost Getters." Jazz greeted, smile somehow widening at the groans she got in response.

"Jazz, we've talked about this." Danny huffed, tangling a hand in his dark bangs and resting a palm against his eye. Jazz didn't even flinch at the annoyed glare she received from Danny's visible eye.

"Oh, I know." Jazz assured, bubbly and merry. Her eyes glinted mischievously and her smile turned all that more teasing, "But your reactions never get old." She seem to bask in the second round of groans she received, giggling behind her hand as Danny let his head fall onto the table. "So, I found this book." Peeking through his hair Danny saw Jazz roll her eyes, pulling a thick tome from under her arm and dropping it on the table. He jerked up at the surface trembled, shooting Jazz another glare as he took in the book's appearance. It was definitely old, looks like something out of medieval times.

"And?" Danny pressed. He really hoped this was something more than just Jazz talking about some book she'd gotten at the library. He never cared for what she read and if she was about to go on another psychology rant Danny hoped a ghost showed up so he wouldn't have to listen to it.

"And," Jazz huffed, shooting Danny a stern look at his clear impatience. "It's about the ghost zone."

Sam perked, reaching over and sliding the heavy brick of old paper towards her. She quickly flips to the first page. Her eyes scan the pages, flicking from side to side. Her eyebrows furrow, lips turning down in a contemplative frown. "This isn't a book." She says softly, confused and curious.

"Looks like a book to me." Tucker adds, leaning forward to get a better look at the pages.

"It's a journal." Sam shot Tucker a half-hearted look of annoyance in Tucker's direction. "It's all handwritten. And there's pictures." She pushes the book closer to Danny so he can get a look.

She's right, obviously. There's a detailed charcoal drawing of the ghost zone on top-left corner of the left page, taking up a good fourth of the worn paper with detail swirls and floating doors turned grayscale. The first paragraph under the drawing is labeled _'The Ghost Dimension'_ and Danny finds himself staring intently at the papers as if they'll spew the answers to the horde of questions assaulting his mind. "Is there an author?" he mutters, looking up at Jazz. It didn't look other-wordly. There was no green, no black, no purple, no glow signifying it belonged in the ghost realm. It was a normal book, likely written by a typical man, but the one question Danny really wanted the answer to was who? He thought no one- no _human_\- had gone into the Ghost Zone until the halfas.

Jazz shook her eyes, eyes hardening as her face became serious. "No, that's why I came." She explains, sighing and finger-combing her hand hesitantly. A nervous tick of her's, but what was there to be nervous about? "There's no author listed, it was just left in the library. I think it might have been planted." She sighs again, leaning forward and putting a hand to her forehead. Whatever this was was really getting to her.

"That seems like a stretch, doesn't it?" Tucker asks, pushing for more answers when the table fell into an uneasy silence.

Danny averted his gaze, turning his eyes back to the book and flipping through the pages. The doors, the islands, the landmarks. It was all there, correctly labeled, all of it. He felt something shift in him, some connection clicking at the back of his mind, and suddenly he felt sick. He grabs a chunk of pages, ignoring the confusion he could feel in his friends' gazes, and flipped to the middle of the book. There, drawn in perfect realism, laid a picture of blood blossoms. The labeling made them to be _perfect weapons_ and _a ghost repellant_. Danny looked at the others with a heavy heart and a pit in his stomach, eyes frightened and mind reeling. "It's a hunter's."

"Danny?" Sam muttered, reaching out to pull the book back. She's concerned obviously. "If it's a ghost hunter's book we should probably keep it away from you." She offers, sliding the book back towards her.

"I feel weird," Danny confesses. After coming across something new, and something unheard of like this, he was afraid to keep the strange, sudden dread from them. His fingers tingled, his blood throbbed in his veins. It was vaguely familiar.

"Weird how?" Tucker asked. Eyeing Danny intently, watching for some sort of visible reaction. Danny's breathing hitched, his eyes still wide and afraid. Why was this so familiar? It was the familiarity, the anticipation, that was making him feel sick. It wasn't the book, not the book itself at least. It couldn't be. That didn't make any sense.

"Like," Danny swallowed thickly, mouth suddenly dry. Jazz reaches out and hovers a hand over his arm, waiting for any sign he actually wanted her comfort. "Like my blood is boiling." Realization washed over him then. He realized why the sensation was so familiar and why it caused such a visceral reaction. He'd only experienced it once but it had been extended agony unlike anything he'd ever felt.

Sam seemed to be coming to the same realization, turning back to the book with fearful lilac irises. "Blood blossoms." She breathed, grabbing the book and flipping through the pages. "There has to be one in here. It's the only thing…" She trailed off.

"Damn it." Jazz cursed gently, finally laying her hand down on Danny's wrist. She flinches, gazing at him in surprise. "You're warm. Like, normal human warm."

"What?" Tucker reaches out and lays his own hand on Danny's shoulder, fingers brushing his friends neck. "Dude, I didn't think that flowers _actually_ boiled your blood." He hissed, voice low and tainted with urgency as he turned to Sam. "You need to find that flower."

"I never would have guessed." Sam snapped, snarling through her teeth as she frantically flipped through each page. There was no unusual disturbance in the old pages, no blaring sign there was something between the pages. She had to go through it page by page.

"Bad news." Jazz muttered. Danny could hear the guilt in her voice but there was something guarded there too.

"Worse new than this?" Danny huffed, the fire thrumming in his veins was getting worse. The flower had to be in that book. Logically, he knew he should leave while they found it, but he didn't know how well his legs would work and he didn't want to find out.

"A-listers incoming." Jazz said in lieu of answer.

"Fuck."


End file.
